


Parental Guidance

by Sometimes_I_Write_Things



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Dry Humping, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Other, Troll x Lusus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sometimes_I_Write_Things/pseuds/Sometimes_I_Write_Things
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat goes into heat, and with no concupiscent quadrants, his guardian is left to help him if he wants to be fed anytime soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parental Guidance

This is stupid. This is so fucking stupid and you can’t believe this is a thing that is actually happening. 

You had started your heat cycle a few nights ago and with no concupiscent quadrants to speak of, you decided to just try and ignore it. You would simply lock yourself in your respiteblock and wait out this whole awful experience. You were confident in your resolve, determined not to give in to your primal instincts and go out find the first troll you happened upon and offer your nook to them. Besides, that would get you culled in pusher-beat with how your color would be on vivid display with your bulge and nook leaking of your freakish color. It turns out your plan was easier said than done.

The first night wasn’t so bad, if just a bit uncomfortable. You felt hot and itchy, like something was trying to fucking crawl out of your skin. It wasn’t so hard to distract yourself with hours upon hours of romcoms and a few attempts at coding.

The second night proved to be more difficult. You completely forgone wearing pants or underwear, your nook having soaked through two pairs already. You would often find yourself shifting your hips so that the seam of your pants rubbed up against the open slit of your nook. It was a nice relief for a few moments, but it only made things worse and messy, so you decided to just fuck it all and be naked from the waist down. You were alone, anyway, and as long as you didn’t look down, you didn’t have to see your mutant shade. 

By the third night, you were well within the throes of heat. You couldn’t bare to hold still for longer than a few minutes. You were restless and hot and aroused to the point of pain. Your bulge wouldn’t go back in its sheath, no matter whether you left it alone or not. Your nook leaked so heavily that if you sat in the same spot long enough, there would be a sizable puddle beneath you withing minutes. 

Now, on the fourth day into your heat cycle, you can’t do anything but awkwardly hump down on the floor and make these pained, crooning noises what you figure is supposed to be some shitty ass mating call. You’re completely naked now, not able to bear the sensation of fabric on your feverish skin rubbing against you as you squirmed. You couldn’t even try and sleep through it, no matter how long you kept yourself submerged in the slime. It’s beyond uncomfortable; it’s downright fucking painful.

There’s thudding and clacking sounds coming your way, making you flinch in your pathetic curled up position on the floor. Apparently, all your warbling had alerted your lusus. You note somewhere in a part of your thinkpan that’s still coherent that you haven’t fed him in nearly five nights. He’s probably going to throw a shit fit as soon as he finds you; might even throw in a few angry skree’s for you to shut up all the racket you’re making.

It’s no surprise to you that he just bursts right in, not that you could have opened the door for him anyway. Crabdad clacks his claws and scuttles on over to you. You can do nothing but look up at him with weak anger, not even up to yelling at him for breaking down your door for how all your squawkbox can do is make those awful needy sounds. You don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed about your lusus seeing you naked and wallowing in your own pre-genetic material.

Crabdad is hovering over you, making disgruntled, worried noises at you as if to say, “WHAT IS IT? GET THE FUCK UP? WHY CAN’T YOU GET UP? FEED ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT! WHAT’S WRONG? OH NO, ARE YOU BROKEN? OH NO!” and all you can do is pant and squirm on your belly, looking up at him blearily and still making those pathetic noises. It takes him a bit, but it seems he finally starts to understand what’s going on once he takes a moment to stop freaking the fuck out to sniff the air. 

He makes low, clicking sounds in his throax and hovers around you, shuffling around and clacking his claws. You just let him do whatever, too aroused and much too incapacitated to care to speak to him. You figure he’ll get the idea and just stay clear of you, but that’s not what happens. Much to your surprise, your lusus steps behind you and presses the round edge of his closed claw against your nook. 

With a startled flinch, you raise your hips involuntarily, body running on pure instinct alone. Your chirr and whine and your lusus makes indignant noises behind you. “THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU,” you imagine he’s saying, rolling his back and forth against the inflamed lips of your nook. You, pitiful and so very desperate for relief, grind down against the hard pressure of your lusus’ claw. It’s so much better than your hands, something not connected to your body and foreign and so very warm and satisfying against your sensitive folds.

Your bulge lashes against the claw every time it comes up far enough to reach and you moan and warble and chirp, grinding down and back frantically as you claw lines into the floor. You would feel bad for the position your lusus is in if you had the capacity to for any coherent thought besides, “YES! MORE! PLEASE! FUCK YES!” but you’ll deal with that shit fest later. There is nothing to think, nothing to do but feel and selfishly chase the climax your body burned for. 

"FUCK!"

You wail in distress as your guardian pulls his claw away, leaving you to awkwardly hump the air as your hope for sweet relief is stolen from you. Crabdad shifts behind you and you’re about to turn around to screech angrily at him before you feel warmth enclose around your hips. Your lusus had gingerly clasped his mouth around your bottom half, your legs spread wide and dangling from the sides of his mouth as your hips and groin stay trapped in his mouth. You proceed to freak the fuck out for a split second, survival instincts overriding the need to pail until you feel something wet and warm slither over sex. 

Broken moans fall from your lips unchecked as Crabdad licks over your bulge and nook. It’s gentle and sure, nothing but pleasure and you writhe in your lusus’ grasp. His claws come down to gently pin your arms back down to the floor with your hips raised, holding you still enough that you don’t go hurting yourself by thrashing too much and cutting yourself in his maw. He’s trying to help you, not hurt you, but you whimper in protest of having your mobility limited and not able to seek more friction.

It’s when his tongue actually presses inside your sweltering nook that your breath catches up tight in your chest. You fall into a cascade of chirps and trills as the oral appendage squirms in and out of you, filling your nook and pressing at your delicate walls. You can’t make any other sounds except for the feral clicks and chirrs spilling from your mouth and you can feel yourself gushing into your lusus mouth. There’s a hot pressure flushing through your nook each time his tongue presses up against something particularly wonderful inside you and you can only press your face to the floor and tremble as the sensations take you.

When Crabdad’s tongue leaves your sopping hole to slather over the spot where the top of your nook meets the root of your bulge, it doesn’t take very long before you’re cumming (FINALLY FINALLY CUMMING), sobbing moans and tensing and relaxing sporadically. Your nook convulses and sprays material with each contraction. Your bulge erupts almost painfully. There’s so much fluid that the pressure threatens to rupture something. You had waited to long and the material had been building up inside your material sacs to a nearly dangerous point. But the pleasure is unlike anything you’ve ever felt and your vision whites out and explodes before your eyes.

You don’t know when it is that you’ve come down nor do you know when your lusus released you from his mouth, but you find yourself shaking on the floor and panting hard. You vaguely note that your face is hot and wet with tears, and you find it odd that you had been crying when feeling something so wonderful. Perhaps the relief was just so overwhelming that you couldn’t help yourself. 

Your pleasant afterglow is interrupted by Crabdad skittering around so that you can see him and screeching at you impatiently. The streaks of read staining his mouth and part of his thorax completely shatter the fuzzy daze you were in and replace it with complete and utter embarrassment. You can’t believe this is a thing that happened. You, Karkat Vantas, are so pathetic that you can’t manage to find a concupiscent partner and your lusus had to resort to making you cum lest you burst and die from genetic material back-up. You grunt and bring yourself up to sitting position with shaking arms, refusing to look directly at Crabdad and seeing your disgusting red all over him.

"We will NEVER speak of this again. It never fucking happened."

Crabdad makes a few clacks with his claws and skree’s at you in what you take to be a vehement agreement. This is so fucking stupid.


End file.
